Observation Written In Blood
by HannahMaximum
Summary: A word written blood reminds Sherlock of who he thinks he is.


**DONT OWN A DAMN THING.**

**Chapter One.**

Sherlock sat on the sidelines, coat collar turned up against the cold and long legs crossed before him. His blue grey eyes followed his only friend as the boy sprints across the field, slipping in the mud as he pauses to turn and smile at Sherlock, focus momentarily stolen from the game. He smirked softly, raising a hand in greeting and frowning puzzled as John's team mates yelled at him. He wasn't quite certain, but Sherlock thought that he had heard the word 'gay' being aimed at the blonde boy. John's expression darkened in response and Sherlock found him mirroring that look of annoyance and confusion. He saw John shake his head and move on, glancing at Sherlock briefly before returning his attention back to the game.

"Long time no see." An Irish sarcastic voice commented, causing Sherlock to frown in recognition.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, as the person took a seat next to him. Down on the field, John glanced up at Sherlock and Jim Moriarty with confusion and concern written all over his face. "Watson, eyes on the game you douche bag!" Sebastian Moran, Jim's best friend and captain of the rugby team, screamed angrily, hitting John on the shoulder. "Right, sorry!" Moriarty as he preferred to be called, laughed at John's awkwardness and ignored Sherlock's deadly gaze. He did hear Sherlock growl and mutter something under his breath about 'bloody rich kids' and that just annoyed him. "Did you want something or did you come to laugh at John?" The taller boy asked, wanting Moriarty to just leave him and John alone for good, sick of people bothering them and judging them because of how close they are.

"Well, laughing is fun." Said Moriarty, grinning as John was tripped over one of the other players.

"Do you want something, Jim?" Sherlock was tempted to get up and leave, but that would upset John and didn't want to upset his only friend. Not ever. "No, not necessarily." Moriarty answered truthfully, shrugging as he did so, bothering Sherlock more and more by the minute. "Just wanted to annoy you." Sherlock laughed. "You're doing an awfully good job at it, then." Moriarty smirked, and winked at Sherlock. The duo sat there, not saying anything as they watched John play his game. Sherlock was getting frustrated by these boys harassing his friend with vile words and mean gestures, he had to do something about that. But what, these man had bigger builds then him and they played a sport that involved getting tackled to a hard ground. And Sherlock had never harmed anyone in his life, only angered them by saying their life stories.

"Sorry about your parents."

"Shut up, you stupid freak!" Sherlock knew that he would get that reaction out of the older teen, the same reaction from everyone. "Don't act like you are really sorry, I don't need fake compassion from a heartless machine." Moriarty said, voice dripping with venom and hate as he could muster. Sherlock didn't react, but on the inside, those words were cutting him like knives. Sherlock had always been could at hiding what he had been feeling, only John could figure out what was going on in that intelligent head on his shoulders. "Heh." Sherlock scoffed and shivered as a gust of cold wind went through his entire body, he wrapped his coat around his skinny frame and let out a long breath which was visible due to the cold winds.

The game neared an end, and Sherlock was about to leave before Moriarty grabbed his wrist and leaned in close to his ear. "Sherlock Holmes." He whispered softly, a smirk visible in his voice. "I owe you." With that, Sherlock was released and Moriarty left, leaving the boy standing there alone, shock evident on his face. What did he mean by that? Sherlock shook his head, as if it would shake the thought away, and he looked down at the field to see John making his way to the boy's locker room, trailing behind everyone. Sherlock decided that he would meet him outside of the locker room, a nice little surprise after a hard long game. He did up his buttons and rewrapped his scarf around his neck to protect him from the cold.

It only took him under a minute to reach the hallway where the locker rooms were located, and so he waited patiently for John to shower and change, and knowing him so well it would only take him ten minutes or sometimes fifteen. After eleven minutes, John pushed the door opened and was greeted by the smiling face of his best friend, glad to see someone he loved. "What did James want?" John questioned, and Sherlock searched him large mind for the most convincing way to say it. "Oh, he just wanted a little chat." He said after a few seconds, and he knew that John wasn't as easy to convince as everybody else he ever spoke to.

"Oi, loser, you forgot your uniform!" Sebastian yelled and threw the shirts and shorts roughly at John, which hit his chest and fell to the floor. John rolled his eyes and bent down to pick up the clothes, and placed them in his bag next to his rugby shoes. "I thought you were friends with the team." Sherlock was confused, why were they all being so rude to the small boy, who just shrugged at the Sherlock, "No, they don't like me much as they used to." Then he and Sherlock began to walk to their lockers again, going to put their book away so that they could leave to go home.

They reached the grey lockers and were face to face with a message left on Sherlock's locker door, written in red spray paint. The words 'unloved' and 'unwanted' were there in bold letters across the whole locker. "Well, that's new." Sherlock mumbled and John shook his head and took a step forward and began to rub off the paint with his sleeve, which only worked a little. "Leave it." Sherlock said as he grabbed John's arm to stop him from trying to clear the paint, he huffed and put his arm down and faced his best friend. "We'll clean it tomorrow, okay?" John nodded his head and then moved to open his locker, which was luckily right next to Sherlock's.

"You know, Sher, you can't just keep letting people get away with this." Sherlock didn't reply, there was nothing for him to say to that. He couldn't stop other kids from being cruel as much as he could stop the sky from being blue. It just couldn't be done, not by someone like him anyway, he was useless at everything- so everyone told him.

Everyone apart from John.

"Let me do something then." The shorter lad said, with dead serious and that made Sherlock smile down at him. "Their bigger then you." John shook his head. "So?" A scoff was extracted from Sherlock at John's protective manner, that's just how the Watson was. "I'll still kick their asses." A laugh from Sherlock and a warning glare from John, and that's how the two boys were.

Unaware that they had both fallen for each other.

"So is that our plan?" Sebastian said, looking around at the seven other boys, all sharing the same sick smirk. "Yes." Was all Moriarty had to say, and all the boys cheered, glad that they could finally do something to show that heartless freak who was the boss around this school.

"Tomorrow, you all be here at nine after school." Their captain ordered, and they all nodded their heads in unison, looking like a group of mindless robots.

Just one problem, who were they going to separate John from Sherlock, they were inseparable. "Leave that to me." A new voice said, from behind the boys. They all turned to face the mysterious person who had spoken up, a teenage boy who had just moved to the school stepped forward.

"And who might you be?" Moriarty questioned, not willing to let someone he doesn't know in on his plan. But he had a feeling about this stranger, a feeling that had only ever had about Sebastian.

This plan was going to be perfect.

AN/ THIS IS ALSO WRITTEN BY A EPIC FRIEND OF MINE. READ AND REVIEW


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